


no other version of me i would rather be tonight

by censored



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Peter Parker, Fluff and Angst, Gay Harry Osborn, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pain, Reunited and It Feels So Good, just a bit at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/censored/pseuds/censored
Summary: I’m sorry, Peter thought to his soulmate as he pressed his hand against the throbbing gunshot wound in his side.Who wanted to share pain with their soulmate from the moment they turned thirteen years old?
Relationships: Harry Osborn/Peter Parker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 207





	no other version of me i would rather be tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProsperDemeter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/gifts), [LilacsAndLilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacsAndLilies/gifts).



_ I’m sorry, _ Peter thought to his soulmate as he pressed his hand against the throbbing gunshot wound in his side. It hurt like a bitch and he hissed out a breath through his teeth. 

Out of all the soulmate connections he could have gotten, he had to have gotten the worst for his line of work. His soulmate probably hated him. Who wanted to share pain with their soulmate from the moment they turned thirteen years old?

To make it worse, Peter had gotten bitten by a genetically modified spider a year after the connection began and subsequently fallen incredibly sick for days. At least his soulmate didn’t have to feel that. No, his soulmate only had to feel the gunshot wound in his abdomen.

It had almost caused Peter to stop being Spider-Man more times than he could count; But it had also reinforced his desire to get  _ better _ , continue to do good. Prevent more stupid injuries because it wasn’t just about him anymore, he couldn’t be sacrificial when someone was going to feel the same pain. 

His spider-sense screamed at him and Peter lunged to the side to avoid a punch that would have probably hurt less than the pull on the wound did. When Peterー if Peter met his soulmate, he doubted they would want to be with him after all the pain he had put them through. He should start writing a formal apology out and rehearse it, so he had something to say when his soulmate undoubtedly started to yell at him.

With a solid punch, the last robber was knocked out on the ground with his buddies. Peter sighed. Tony probably already knew about the loss of blood from Karen, Peter would have to web these guys up quickly and make his way back to the tower before an Iron Man suit showed up to pick him up. 

* * *

Harry was tired of his soulmate. 

They hadn’t even met. But Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet someone who put him in so much pain. Most mornings, he would wake up because of sharp, intense pain. His face, his ribs, his leg, anything. 

He gasped in as much air as he could, pressing his hands against his side in a fruitless attempt to alleviate the pain from whatever the hell his soulmate had just done. It hurt  _ so bad _ .

While not entirely uncommon, it was rarer for Harry to experience this magnitude of pain. This was a once a month type of deal. Usually, he just woke up to something that felt like a hit that was going to leave a deep bruise. Nothing ever marked or scarred or bled, but that didn’t mean that the pain was any better. 

Harry felt like he hadn’t woken up to anything except pain in so long.

He didn’t know what timezone his soulmate was in, but he was in France. His pain started appearing between 1 AM and 5 AM. A perfect way to start off his school days. 

Rarely, it would make him double over in class. But it had happened enough that his teachers didn’t even bat an eye anymore, just asked someone to escort him to the nurse if he couldn’t stand by himself. Those days were the worst. Harry hated missing his classes as a result of his injury-prone soulmate. 

His soulmate did  _ something _ and his side burst with enough pain to bring stars into his eyes. He barely felt his knuckles twinge with the amount of pain that just shot through his abdomen. 

When he first experienced the debilitating pain, at fourteen years old, he had been incredibly worried about his soulmate’s wellbeing. Then it happened the next morning and Harry kinda assumed that his soulmate had a chronic illness that caused the pain. But then it kept happening. Different levels of pain each day. Some days Harry would wake up to what he thought a punch to the face would feel like, but other mornings, he woke up the way he had this morning. Clutching his side that he was pretty sure was a gunshot wound. It had been sudden and sharp, slowly decreasing as adrenaline flooded his system. 

Just like it always would, in less than a half-hour, the pain would dull significantly and Harry would be left with nothing more than a small twinge with certain movements. Completely gone by tomorrow. 

Incredibly rarely, he wouldn’t wake up to any pain. Although, now that he was thinking about it, he actually wasn’t waking up in pain as often. 

If his pain was anything less than a gunshot wound, he might have said a silent thanks to his soulmate, but they didn’t deserve any sort of ‘thank you’ this morning. 

Just as he predicted, the pain dulled what felt like an hour later, but had only been about ten minutes. Harry once again questioned how something so painful could be alleviated so quickly. They must take some sort of drug, not through an IV because Harry barely ever feels the pinch from that. 

Harry slowly relaxed his body back into the mattress and checked the time. 4:14 AM. 

There was no way he was going to be able to go back to sleep. 

* * *

“Shit!” Peter flew backward with the force of the blast, catching himself before he hit the wall. 

“Language!” 

“Mr. Stark literally shut up,” Peter announced as he launched himself back into the fray.

He heard Mr. Stark mumble something about disrespectful sassy teenagers as the man sipped coffee off to the side. They were in the massive gym of Stark Tower, Peter suited up and fighting some new training robots he had just developed. He was doing well up until they had upped the level by two instead of one. Peter hadn’t been ready for the sudden change in movement style and got hit by a blast. Thankfully, the blast didn’t hurt very much, just knocked his breath out.

Peter focused back on stopping the robots from attempting to hit him. Wrapping webs around half the group and launching them off to the side to deal with in a moment. 

“Nice work, kid,” Tony commented, stepping over one of the fallen bodies idly. “You’ve really improved.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” Peter pulled off his mask, shaking out his hair. 

“I never asked, but is the reason that you used to fight so touch and go-”

“It’s because my soulmate can feel my pain, yeah,” Peter interrupted. “There’s no reason for them to have to deal with that.”

Mr. Stark nodded, humming thoughtfully. “That’s what I assumed. We can work on developing a new training regime around Aikido style.”

“That’s the one where you take the energy of the hit and use it on the other person?”

“Got it in one,” Mr. Stark patted his shoulder. “Now, go get cleaned up. May texted that she was on her way for dinner and Pepper texted that she’s almost done with work too.”

A few minutes later, when Peter was in the shower, he saw a bruise blossoming over his sternum. Apparently, the blast hadn’t just winded him. He wanted to press it, to see how deep it was, but that wouldn’t help his soulmate. It’d be gone in the next hour, but considering it bruised, that blast had probably hurt more than he realized in his adrenaline-filled state. He winced despite not pressing on it. His soulmate was going to hate him. 

* * *

The moment Harry laid down on his bed, the breath was knocked out of him as his sternum flared in pain. His hand automatically scrambled to grip his throat, as if it would magically make the air return to his chest. 

Harry stared resolutely at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing under control. It was a familiar sight at this point. 

How many early mornings had he spent staring at the ceiling, hoping sleep would reclaim him after his rude awakenings?

Harry rolled over to check his phone.

10:54 PM.

At least he could still get a full night’s sleep after this one.

* * *

Although Peter graduated high school earlier this week, it didn’t feel like it. Gone were the four years of his life that had defined him into the almost adult he was. He wasn’t yet eighteen, but with a high school diploma under his belt and plans for college in the fall, he felt like a true young adult. Most of his friends were going out of New York for school. Gwen was going to Harvard, MJ to Stanford, Ned to MIT, Harry to- and Peter was going to Empire State University. He couldn’t leave New York. A big part of that was Spider-Man, but also, New York was his home. He couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else. 

Tony had been a tad disappointed to hear that he wasn’t going to MIT, but had warmed up to Empire State incredibly fast. Peter would still have his ‘internship’ with Stark Industries for his resume, and Tony planned to actually have Peter work in the Intern labs on some days. Living on campus was too expensive and the commute from Queens would have been a bit too difficult with Peter’s late hours patrolling, so Tony had offered him a room in the Tower to be closer to campus. 

He had spent most of his summer with MJ, Gwen, and Ned before the semester started and made it one to remember. With all three of them knowing about Spider-Man, it made it easy for Peter to ‘sneak’ away when he needed to. 

Now, all three had traveled to their campuses to move in for the school year. There were only a couple of days before classes started, and Peter was ecstatic. His schedule was amazing and while not living on campus wouldn’t give him the full experience, he didn't mind. He wasn’t one to spend his nights drinking at a party. 

He was starting his regular internship schedule, rather than just random days that Mr. Stark said he should come in. (Pepper and May had teamed up to make Tony realize that Peter needed an actual schedule once he had classes to attend). Peter was to be there at 9 AM, not too early for Mr. Stark to be awake, but early enough to get him ready for long days of productivity. 

Thankfully, Peter noted as he yawned, one of his favorite coffee shops was on the way to the tower. It was a small, local place full of plants and good music. He’d grab a coffee and sit there for a bit before finishing his journey. Caffeine didn’t really affect him, damn his increased metabolism, but Peter still enjoyed the warmth and the idea that it did help him wake up a bit. He was very close to becoming a regular there, as most of the baristas knew him by now, and it filled his heart. Such a mundane thing, but it was something he really enjoyed. 

New York was in the latter days of summer, still warm, but not the suffocating urban heat that plagued the city in the middle of July. By now, it had cooled down significantly, and the morning air was refreshing. 

Peter pulled the shop door open, the tiny bell ringing out. The shop wasn’t too crowded yet, just the normal morning regulars. Peter stepped into the short line.

There were a few open tables, one by the window that Peter was hoping to snag once he ordered. His flannel was too warm inside and he had to shrug it off and tied it around his hips. He stood out around the smartly dressed business people in the shop, but he had gotten used to that. 

Once Peter ordered, he stepped off to the side and people watched. Most were people in and out as fast as they could on their way to work, but there was a young mother with her son coloring together at one of the tables and Peter smiled. 

“Peter!”

Hot coffee now in hand, Peter turned and snagged the window seat he had spotted earlier. He had enough time to enjoy his drink without it being jostled in his hand on the busy New York sidewalks.

He tuned out the names being called and the idle chatter of those around him and focused on the music playing. Soothing indie. 

Deeming it long enough, he took a hesitant sip of his coffee and breathed out slowly. Burned tongue. It’d be better in a couple of minutes, but it was still annoying. 

All was well, until the back of his hand lit up in pain. 

Peter pulled it back from the table and hissed. 

His soulmate was rarely hurt. The worst Peter could remember getting was what felt like a minor sprained ankle. Usually, it was just paper cuts and headaches at odd hours. This past summer, he had only felt a hit to the funny bone. All normal and mundane injuries, so Peter happily ruled out Johnny Storm from his soulmate probability. Ned, Gwen, and MJ had all been ruled out early into his career as Spider-Man. None of them ever showed signs of his injuries. 

Honestly, it just made him feel more shitty. Here his soulmate was, getting minor burns while making meals, paper cuts, and the occasional burnt tongue. Peter hadn’t gotten injured last night on patrolー he had been trying really hard to not let himself get injured latelyー which was a nice change of pace. It was nice not having his ribs aching for hours while at his internship. 

Peter was surprised his soulmate hadn’t ever purposefully stubbed their toeー to Peter’s knowledgeー as some sort of payback for all the injuries Peter had gotten since he was thirteen. Really fourteen, but the locker slams when he was thirteen weren’t great either.

The burn on his hand was dulling at this point, his soulmate had probably run it under water and put something on it, but Peter found that he didn’t mind. His soulmate was so rarely in pain, Peter was occasionally worried if they were still alive. It was nice to have the reminder, even if it involved pain. 

A minute later, the pain to the back of his hand returned, but not as intense as it had been. Peter hypothesized a second-degree burn and then felt a moment of self-hatred for even knowing how that felt. 

* * *

Harry winced. Apparently, he and his soulmate were finally in the same timezone if his burnt tongue was anything to go off of. It could be a different meal, but Harry was pretty sure it was coffee. 

Ironically, he was just finishing up his pour-over, his first cup of the morning. He’d woken up peacefully after a night of no pain. Now back in New York, the pain he used to get early in the morning had switched to hitting between 8 PM and midnight. At least he could still get a full night of sleep now.

He hummed as he put the filter full of coffee grounds into his compost. It was a pleasant morning. No pain overnight, very few meetings today, and the weather was nice. Harry was considering going for a run after his last meeting, exploring the streets of New York a bit maybe.

“Shit!” Harry quickly grabbed the mug before it could fly off the counter, watching in what seemed like slow motion as the burning hot coffee sloshed over the side and onto the back of his hand. “ _ Shit _ !”

He quickly set the mug back on the counter, far from the edge, and ran his hand under cool water. The pain immediately was replaced by the feeling of relief on his skin. After a minute or so, he removed his hand from under the stream and dried it off carefully. It still ached with the intensity of the burn, but it wasn’t anything Harry couldn’t handle. His coffee was calling to him, but it was probably still going to burn his tongue. 

Mug in one hand and phone in the other, Harry gingerly sat down into the chair facing the skyline of Manhattan. No need to spill his coffee a second time. The first meeting he had today required him to be downstairs in an hour, but that meant he had a good 55 minutes to enjoy his morning before his classes took over his free time. 

* * *

“Right through here, sweetie.”

Harry swallowed. When he had gotten in contact with Stark Industries on a whim to fix the relationship between the companies and propose a partnership, he hadn’t expected Virginia Potts to be so… nice. No one had called him anything other than his name in so long. If they had, it lacked the warmth that Ms. Potts put into the word. 

Tony Stark and Norman hated each other. Harry had been raised insulting the Stark name. He had tried to teach himself differently, but it was a slow-going process. But now Norman was far away and Harry was in charge of Oscorp.

A Stark Industries and Oscorp partnership would be revolutionary to the medical world, along with being a _fuck_ _you_ to Norman. Only if Tony Stark agreed. Not that it mattered too much, as Ms. Potts was the one who was CEO of Stark Industries, but the man did own the building. Ms. Potts had seemed interested in her emails, allowing Harry to come to the building to talk in person. 

The room she led him into was a simple meeting area, with a long table in front of a blank wall for projections. “I thought I would talk to you one on one before bringing Tony in. I don’t want him shutting this down just because of your last name,” Ms. Potts informed him, sitting down across from Harry smoothly.

“I appreciate it.”

She scrutinized him for a moment, but it didn’t feel unkind. It just seemed like she was trying to get a read on him. “Harry Osborn, recently begun courses at Columbia University, but also recently was quietly placed as CEO of Oscorp. You’ve just returned from studying in France?”

Harry nodded. All of that was true. He became CEO after his father was quietly sent away to a mental facility. They had kept everything about Harry’s return to the States and to Oscorp from the press, and intended to keep it that way for a while. “Correct. I assume you know what became of my father?”

“I do,” Ms. Potts confirmed. Harry liked her. She was professional, treating Harry as an equal rather than a child, but she was also...warm. That was the only way he could describe it. His father had been all harsh, cold lines and disapproving comments, but Ms. Potts had only been the complete opposite. “I never did meet your father, Mr. Osborn. I don’t hold the same hatred for the Osborn name as Tony does. From what I’ve seen, you’re an incredibly impressive young man who wants the best for a company he suddenly has control over. I am not opposed to a new beginning. Would you expand on what you mentioned in your email?”

“Happily.”

* * *

“FRIDAY, is Tony still in his lab?”

“Yes, but Peter has joined him.”

“Peter is his intern,” Ms. Potts informed him at Harry’s curious expression. He knew that Stark had a personal intern from the occasional Tweet he sent out, but nothing more than the fact that the person existed. “If I tell him to meet us up here, he’d get distracted or ignore the request. I really like your ideas, Mr. Osborn, and I think Tony should hear them from both of us. Do you mind if we go down to his lab?”

“I don’t want to impose on anything…”

“You won’t, honey, don’t worry,” Ms. Potts smiled softly. “I’ll ask FRIDAY to tell them to put away or hide anything confidential before we arrive.” 

Harry was still a tad hesitant. Tony Stark never liked his father and Harry wasn’t in the mood to deal with unneeded hostility towards himself just because of his last name. But this was important for Stark to agree with, so he nodded and Ms. Potts gave him a smile. “Perfect. I’ll keep him in line if that is what you’re worried about.”

“I have informed Boss of what you requested.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY.” 

An AI like FRIDAY would be marvelous to have at Oscorp, but Harry’s expertise had never been such advanced coding. Building an AI as complex and powerful as FRIDAY would take him years. 

They walked together back towards the elevator and FRIDAY took them up to the lab without fuss. The doors opened to reveal an impressive lab. It didn’t seem to be focused on one aspect, instead, it covered multiple interests. Harry spotted a cabinet full of chemicals and beakers, locked and stabilized. Most of the lab seemed geared towards what Harry expected the tools to build an Iron Man suit to be, but there were a few microscopes and tables set up for a more biochemical approach. Tony Stark wasn’t interested in biochemistry to Harry’s knowledge, but maybe the man was branching out. 

“Tony, this is Harry Osborn,” Ms. Potts introduced him. 

Harry had never met Tony Stark in person, but the man looked different than the tabloids like to display. Rather than a put-together man in a suit, Harry stared at a man in an AC/DC shirt and messy hair from hours in a lab. It reminded him of himself. Harry barely recognized himself when he stared in the mirror before a meeting. Impeccable hair and dressed in a suit, a serious expression. He looked like a stranger wearing his face. He preferred the way he looked when he wasn’t around anyone. The one that stumbled into the bathroom after spending hours in his lab, messy hair, and comfy attire. Tony Stark was comfortable in this lab, in his life. Harry envied it.

“Ah, never thought I would have an Osborn in my lab voluntarily,” Tony Stark glanced up from his work. “I would say it’s nice to meet you, but I haven’t determined if it is.”

Harry gave a polite smile. “I am not my father, Dr. Stark. At least, I’m trying not to be.”

He gave Harry a long look, something in his eyes that Harry couldn’t decipher. His soul felt bared to a man he had never met. “What university did you decide on?”

Harry almost laughed at the question. It was not what he was expecting the man to say. He had been expecting an insult to the Osborn name, a jab at Oscorp, a comment about Harry’s age, anything but that. 

“Columbia. Just started classes last month.”

“Good school,” Dr. Stark nodded. “Alright, talk me through it.”

And Harry did. It was a tad annoying to have to explain twice in such a short period of time, but this time, Ms. Potts helped. 

Dr. Stark’s face was unreadable until nearing the end, where it began to soften. By the time they had finished, Dr. Stark looked more thoughtful than anything else. He had given Harry his full attention the entire time, which Harry appreciated. He knew the man didn’t have the best track record of paying attention to people he didn’t like. 

“Well,” Tony said when Harry had fallen silent, “This will be the new era for the medical industry.”

Harry grinned. It wasn’t a fake one or a strained one, it was one of pride. It felt odd on his face. The partnership between SI and Oscorp would change the world. 

“I would offer to shake your hand, but they’re a bit messy,” Dr. Stark held them up, showing off the grease that would take a couple of washes to get off. 

Ms. Potts turned and offered her hand to Harry. “I look forward to working with you, Mr. Osborn.”

“Likewise, Ms. Potts.”

Harry saw something in her eyes, a realization. “I thought FRIDAY said Peter was here?”

“He is,” Stark affirmed, wiping his hands on a rag and gesturing to a corner of the massive room.

Harry’s eyes followed his movement, looking towards a couch in the corner that he would have never noticed on his own accordance. There was someone laying on it, his legs falling off the side a bit. He was facing away from the room, but Harry could see that he was wearing headphones over his brown, curly hair. 

“That’s my intern, Peter Parker.”

Harry’s mind screeched to a halt. Peter Parker. The boy he was best friends with from birth until Harry was shipped off to France for highschool. Of course, Peter was a genius. There was no way he wouldn’t be Stark’s infamous intern. Harry had seen the man’s occasional Tweets about stuff his intern did, but the name  _ Peter Parker _ was never mentioned. He had been in the same building, on the same floor as Peter and hadn’t even known. 

Peter Parker was his rock. His...person. He had never had to wear a mask around him, never had to be someone he wasn’t. Peter Parker with his brown curls and glasses. Their rapid-fire discussions about biochemistry that Harry could barely keep up with as Peter’s mind just kept absorbing more and more information. The Peter Parker that Harry had never gotten to say goodbye to. Norman had sent him to the airport without a word, Harry hadn’t known where he was going or what was happening until Bernard had given him a sad smile and said that he was attending school in France until college. 

Peter would never leave New York, Harry knew that. But there were so many people. So much  _ time  _ since he had last seen him. Harry was going to reach out, eventually. But his thoughts kept stopping him. The distance seemed too far. All the  _ what-if _ moments he had overseas, realizing that his feelings for Peter ran deeper than friendship. The pain in his chest when he realized how far away his best friend was. He tried to send a letter to Peter, multiple letters, but he hadn’t gotten one back. There was no way to contact him. Norman had probably intercepted any mail that Harry had sent out. Just like the man had altered his phone in a way that he could only contact the people Norman wanted him to talk to.

In the back of his mind, Harry knew that the Parkers probably still lived in the same apartment. He’d visit and May and Ben would hug him, telling him how much he’s grown, how much they missed him. Peter would come out of his small bedroom with a wide smile on his face. They’d hug. Harry would hold back the tears, but Peter wouldn’t. He’d be with his best friend again. Everything would be okay. 

Harry would run Oscorp and attend classes, but he and Peter would spend their free time together. But he was too much of a coward to make the familiar walk up the stairs to the apartment he had visited so often in his youth. It had been  _ too long _ since they had been together in the same room. He has changed since Peter last knew him, Harry knew he had. Out of his father’s shadow in France, he had grown into his own person as much as he could. Out of the limelight of the Osborn name. The tabloids in France didn’t care that he was there. 

“I’m sure he would love to meet someone from Oscorp, but he had a bit of a, uh, rough night so he’s catching up on some sleep.”

Harry startled out of his thoughts. Suddenly filled with worry. A rough night? “Is he okay?”

He was sure that Dr. Stark and Ms. Potts were giving him odd looks, but he couldn’t look away from Peter’s still form. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. He needed to go. Get out of the building. Peter didn’t need him to intrude on his life when he was doing so well. Dr. Stark might have responded, or it might have been Ms. Potts but Harry didn’t hear it. Before he had gotten his legs to  _ get him out of here _ , Peter had sat up and pulled off his headphones. 

“Sorry if we woke you, Pete,” Dr. Stark’s voice sounded like Harry was underwater. “This is Harry Osborn.”

Then Peter’s soft, chocolate gaze was on Harry. “ _ Harry _ …”

“Peter,” Harry choked out.

Then Peter’s arms were around him and Harry felt like he could breathe again for the first time in years.

* * *

**_3:02 AM_ **

**peter parker:** i wish i could have read the letters you sent me

**peter parker:** i think it wouldnt have hurt as bad

**peter parker:** did you know i went to oscorp to find you when you stopped texting me

**peter parker:** they wouldnt let me up to the penthouse

**peter parker:** norman came down to the lobby for something else and saw me 

**peter parker:** he just asked me how school was going

**_3:24 AM_ **

**peter parker:** i wrote you letters 

**peter parker:** but i didnt know where to send them so i kept them

**peter parker:** i dont know why im messaging you im sorry 

* * *

Learning how to be friends with Peter Parker again reminded Harry of the feeling of riding a bike for the first time in years. You’re terrified that you’ve forgotten how, but after the first few awkward wobbles, everything slots back into place and it’s smooth riding from there. 

After that first tearful encounter in front of Dr. Stark and Ms. Potts that included Harry explaining that he  _ hadn’t _ known that he was being sent away and that he  _ did _ try to send Peter letters and a somewhat awkward conversation with the two incredibly confused adults in the room. Ms. Potts had pulled Dr. Stark out of the lab with a “Take all the time you need, sweethearts.”

Peter Parker was intoxicating. Harry had been sober for about a year at this point, too many dumb mistakes and too many forgotten nights leading to the decision to quit. But Peter Parker was addicting. He didn’t even have to try. Whether it was the bright laugh he gave when Harry quipped something, the fact that every time he saw a dog on the street while they walked, his face would break out into a grin, or his endlessly caring personality.

Falling in love with Peter Parker again was the easiest thing Harry ever did. 

* * *

**_4:02 PM_ **

**harry osborn:** so Norman sent me off to France for school, but I arrived before classes started

**harry osborn:** I was lonely and my insomnia was absolutely terrible from jet lag

**harry osborn:** so I would wander the campus grounds at odd hours

**peter parker:** THATS HOW YOU BECAME A CRYPTID IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY?

**harry osborn:** no one made the connection is was me once classes started!

**harry osborn:** I would occasionally do it at odd hours once classes started as well

**harry osborn:** so there was a new mystery around the school 

**harry osborn:** who or what was wandering around the grounds at 3 AM?

**harry osborn:** surely not harry osborn

**peter parker:** local cryptid, harry osborn

**peter parker:** wait i thought you were in a meeting 

**harry osborn:** who says I’m not?

**peter parker:** when is it over?

**harry osborn** : another half hour

**peter parker:** pay attention for the next half hour and i’ll come over after i finish up here

**harry osborn:** how about, I pay attention until the meeting ends, then I take you to that restaurant I was telling you about

**peter parker:** only if I can take you to scoops for ice cream after

**harry osborn:** deal <3

**harry osborn:** it was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Parker

**peter parker:** <3

* * *

Harry was in  _ so much pain. _

After years of feeling the equivalent of what he assumed was broken ribs, stab wounds, gunshot wounds, he was pretty annoyed with how much a stubbed toe felt. At least he hoped it was a stubbed toe and not a broken toe. He wasn’t even near anything he could stub his toe on. Stopped in a sparse section of the penthouse, texting Peter, and now suffering through the pain of a stubbed toe.

**peter parker:** I JUST STUBBED MY TOE I WANT TO DIE

Harry almost dropped his phone. 

**harry osborn:** come over

**peter parker:** ??? are you okay

**harry osborn:** im fine just come over please

**peter parker:** i’ll be there in 15

What were the odds that Peter Parker was his soulmate? Just because he had stubbed his toe at the same time that Harry had pain from his soulmate stubbing or breaking their toe. Probably not breaking it, as the pain was almost gone at this point. Norman had sent Harry off to France ten days before Peter turned thirteen. Once school had started, Harry felt pain on his shoulders, like they had been slammed into something. Had Peter been bullied in high school? 

“Harry!” Peter appeared in front of him, holding Harry’s shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Somewhere in Harry’s mind, he knew it hadn’t been fifteen minutes since Peter had sent his message. “Were you bullied in high school?”

“What- Harry are you okay?” Peter’s Bambi eyes somehow looked even more concerned but the only thing Harry could think of was  _ not being there _ . “Were you bullied in high school, Peter? Please just answer the question.”

“I-Yeah, Harry, I was.”

“Was it physical?”

“It was just some guy who would call me names and shove me into lockers.” 

Peter had gotten shoved into lockers. The shoulder pain when they were thirteen. 

Harry put his arms over Peter’s, who was still holding him by the shoulders, and pinched his shoulder  **hard** . 

“Ow!” Peter yelped. “Harry, what the hell?”

Harry felt the pinch on his own shoulder.  _ Peter was his soulmate _ . 

He sat down directly onto the floor and Peter was by his side instantly, rambling about taking Harry to a hospital because something was  _ obviously wrong _ .

Peter Parker was his soulmate. 

Harry wanted to yell at him. He wanted to scream. Peter had put him through so many sleepless nights when all Harry had wanted to do was sleep to escape the world. Escape the distance between them. Peter Parker had been hurt incredibly often since he had been fourteen. 

“Harry, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Harry made sure Peter was watching what he was about to do, then reached down and pinched his own thigh. Peter sucked in a breath. “You…”

“Yeah,” Harry choked out. 

Peter’s arms were tight around him. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes out. “God, Harry, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Suddenly, it all connects in Harry’s head. Bullet wounds. Broken ribs. The odd hours, late at night in New York. “You’re Spider-Man, aren’t you?”

Peter nods from where his head is on Harry’s shoulder. “Since I was fourteen.”

Peter had been so young, putting the weight of the world onto his shoulders to make sure the people in New York were safe. He had been swinging around the streets of New York when he should have been worrying about who he was going to take to Homecoming, to Prom.  _ Because Harry wasn’t there to ask him. _ He should have been stressing over studying for his finals, not getting shot by a trigger happy robber. 

“Oh my god,” Harry realized into the sleeve of Peter’s shirt. “You’ve been shot.”

“I tried, I swear I was trying to not get hurt. I never wanted to hurt you,” Peter gasped out.

Harry laughed, he laughed because this entire situation was insane. Tears were streaming down his face, he was pressed into Peter’s shoulder, holding onto him as if it was the only thing keeping him upright and Peter was hugging him like he was holding Harry together by the seams. “You’re supposed to not get hurt for yourself, you dumbass.”

“I know, I know, but you were the one I was trying to get better for, to be better for. Every injury, I would apologize to you, even though you would never know. I guess you know now, but-”

“Peter, stop talking.” Harry requested and he heard the brunet’s jaw click shut. He raised his head from the tear-stained shirt of his  _ soulmate _ and looked at Peter. Really looked at him.

Those soft brown eyes looking at him like Harry was the best thing to exist, the way Peter had always looked at him, even after Harry had been erased from his life for four years. He had a freckle above his right eyebrow, one on the side of the bridge of his nose, one on the edge of his jaw. His jawline was sharp now, no longer the soft baby faced Peter he remembered. There was a small scar above his left eyebrow. Tiny. Barely noticeable, but still there. Harry remembered the sharp pain he had in the same spot two years ago, he had woken up clutching his eye, desperately hoping that his soulmate hadn’t just blinded themselves. Harry ran his thumb over it, marveling in how something so small could cause him so much pain thousands of miles away. Peter’s hair was as soft as his eyes, falling into messy curls onto his forehead. It wasn’t just brunet, it was the color of chocolate infused with caramel. 

When Harry looked back into Peter’s eyes, the brown eyes weren’t looking back. They were staring at his lips. They snapped up to meet Harry’s gaze. “Can I kiss you?” Peter breathed out and Harry couldn’t do anything except nod because  _ yes _ , Peter could always kiss him. 

Harry had kissed people before, messy drunk kisses in the corner of loud parties that had too many people. Kissing Peter Parker was nothing like that. One of his hands cupped the side of Harry’s face, holding him gently and the other idly played with his hair. He kissed like he did everything, passionately, and with incredible care. He was holding him like he thought Harry was about to shatter in his fingertips. 

Peter leaned him backward onto the floor, lowering him gently with his hand still cupping Harry’s head. His body was warm over Harry’s, but Harry wanted Peter on him. It only took a tug and a swift movement of his leg to unbalance Peter from his perch. 

Peter laughed into the kiss and moved his mouth to Harry’s jaw, pressing kisses down it. Everything about Peter was intoxicating. 

Later, they would talk about how many sleepless nights Peter had caused, but for now, Harry was happy thinking about nothing but Peter’s mouth on his own. 

* * *

“Do you have access to the roof?”

“What?” Harry turned his head from where he had been watching the TV to look him in the eye, but the brunet kept his arms over Harry’s back and continued to watch the movie they had put on.

“I’ve been on the roof but I didn’t take too close of a look around.”

Harry winced at the reminder that Peter was Spider-Man, briefly hoping that Peter hadn’t felt him do it, but then those Bambi eyes were looking at him in apology. He knew that he couldn’t ask Peter to stop being Spider-Man, the brunet was  _ too good _ of a person to even consider giving up an opportunity to help people. 

“Why do you want to go to the roof?”

“So that means you can get up there?”

Harry was comfortable laying under Peter. He didn’t want to get up, but Peter looked so excited at the opportunity to go up on the roof, so with a sigh, Harry gave a nod. Peter carefully got off him and reached out a hand to help Harry stand up. Their hands stayed clasped together as Harry led them to the elevator and activated the keypad to take them to the highest point of the Oscorp building. 

They were greeted with a cool autumn breeze that ruffled Harry’s hair. Harry had rarely gone up to the roof, there was no point to come up here to stargaze when you couldn’t even see the stars in New York. When he had first returned home from France, he had spent a few sleepless nights up here wrapped in a blanket. It felt like he was far away from the rest of the world, so disconnected. Not only in mind anymore, but physically too. 

“Would you like to dance with me, Harry Osborn?” Peter broke him out of his memories, looking at him with such life in his expression. Such love. Harry couldn’t speak around the tightness in his throat, so he just nodded. Their hands were still together, so Peter just held them to the side when he faced Harry. It was a simple ballroom waltz, but nothing was ever simple with Peter. 

Harry didn’t have to look at his feet, dancing forced into him as a kid to make sure he was never left unprepared for an important function. That all went down the drain when Peter lifted his arm for Harry to spin under. 

Harry spun as best he could and Peter’s responding breathless laugh brought a smile to his face. 

“Now your turn.”

Peter was significantly better at spinning than Harry had been.

They fell into a slow dance, eventually just swaying in each other’s arms under the dark sky.

* * *

Harry woke up to a soft kiss onto his shoulder. He briefly considered faking sleep, but he knew that Peter heard his heart rate accelerate when his brain comprehended that  _ Peter _ was the one pressing kisses to his shoulder blade. It didn’t matter how many times Harry woke up next to Peter, the feeling remained the same. 

Peter’s arm was wrapped over his waist possessively and Harry felt secure. Safe. 

“Y’r too far,” Harry mumbled and then Peter pressed his chest against his back. 

“Better?”

Harry hummed happily in response.

When Harry next woke, Peter’s arm was still wrapped around his waist and his chest was pressed against Harry’s back, bringing a comfortable warmth. It was later in the morning at this point, a more reasonable time to get up then Peter’s 6 AM wake up call. 

The sun was filtering into his room softly, despite its position higher in the sky. It brought soft lighting, a type of light that Harry loved painting. His art supplies were slowly growing in number again. He had bought more to join the small collection he had accumulated in France, but Peter was encouraging him to paint more and more, so the trips to local art stores were becoming more frequent.

Peter’s face pressed against his neck and Harry could barely feel the featherlight kiss that the brunet pressed there. 

“Are you hungry?” 

Peter hummed in affirmative. 

“I’ll order some food in.” Harry tried to reach his phone but Peter pulled him back so they were pressed together. “I thought you were hungry?”

“It can wait,” Peter muttered into Harry’s neck.

“It really can’t, with your metabolism, but okay,” Harry relented, letting Peter shift until Harry was looking up at him. Peter gave him a soft smile, his eyes looking over Harry’s face. “I love you, Harry Osborn.”

“I know.”

Peter let out the equivalent of a squawk from where he had been mouthing at Harry’s jaw. “You don’t get to make Star Wars references at me, Mr. I Don’t Even Like Movies.”

“Says who?” Harry grinned. Peter was so fun to rile up. He didn’t get any warning before Peter suddenly switched their positions, so Harry was laying on top. Harry frowned playfully. He preferred having Peter’s weight on top of him, warm and comforting and grounding, but he could work with this. Peter was raising his eyebrow at Harry in challenge and that simply wouldn’t do.

“ _ Harry! _ ”

Breakfast would have to wait. 


End file.
